"Oh, what a fine day to eat lettuce!" exclaimed the king. "A fine, fine day indeed. There could be no finer day than today to eat lettuce. In fact, if a thousand thousand days passed, and then the world exploded into a thousand thousand pieces, there would still be no finer day than today to eat lettuce. It is truly a fine day indeed. Undoubtedly."

The king turned towards one of the other men seated at the long table. "Undoubtedly," the king said. "Undoubtedly," the man repeated. The king turned to face more men. "Undoubtedly." "Undoubtedly." "Undoubtedly." Undoubtedly."

A fool emerged from the shadows at the edge of the great hall. "Undoubtedly," the king said to the fool. "One doubts a flea," the fool replied.

"No one doubts a flea," the king said irritably. "Fleas will always tell the truth. You can tell because they BZZZZ. It means they have an honest heart. Always."

The king turned to his wife, who sat beside him. "Always," the king said. The queen sat there stony-faced. "ALWAYS!" the king roared. Still, the queen sat there stony-faced.

"Guards!" the king shouted. "Stick a sword down this woman's throat!" The king shouted, but not a guard moved. The fool moved, however.

"Here is my sword!" he proclaimed as he pulled down his pants. "And now I shall stick it down this woman's throat!"

The king roared with laughter. "Fool, you are so very mad! One cannot simply stick a sword one's wife. Stick your great sword in that one instead." He pointed to a guard across the hall.

"As you wish, my king!" exclaimed the fool, with foolish delight. He hopped across the hall, plucked up a knife from the table, and in one swift stroke stabbed the man in his throat.

The king roared in anger. "Fool!" he shouted. "That was no sword. That was a knife! Fool, come here!"

The fool hopped back over to the king. He bowed, blood dripping lightly off of his purple and gold tunic.

"Fool, what is your name?" asked the king.

"My name?" asked the fool. "Why, I have no name."

"No name?" asked the king. "Everyone has a name. What name did your mother give you?"

"My mother?" asked the fool. "I have no mother. I simply popped into existence, not out between a woman's legs."

"No mother?" asked the king. "Everybody has a mother. And everybody has a name. My name is King Sir Solly Tuddy Pelly Aggy Sussy, the thirty-third. What is yours?"

"Mine?" asked the fool. "Why any you like. Some call me Theo, some Theodore, some Theogore, and some Sheogore. I don't like Theo or Sheo, but I love Gore."

"A pleasure to meet you, Theo-Theodore-Theogore-Sheogore-Gore. My name is Lord Tuddy Pelly Sussy Solly Aggy, the thirty-Great."

The fool and the king shook hands, to the astonishment of everyone in the hall, including the stony-faced queen.

---------------------------------

What do you think? Completely and utterly random, popped up into my head 30 minutes ago when I was thinking about Sheogorath.

Hmm... I'd like more explanation of what's going on; it seemed to be leading up to some kind of plot twist or big explanation as to what was going, but other then the identity of the fool, there was nothing. Other then that, it was very good; I'd love a sequel.

The king is Mad Pelagius, also known as the King of Solitude. This happens to be one of his Sheogorath-induced fits of madness. There isn't much to explain other than that, I suppose.